Light at the End of The Tunnel
by ClaireLayton
Summary: Set After Battle of Hogwarts. Voldemort is defeated! Draco realises that not everyone is against him. P.S. I am bad at summaries.


The Malfoy family sat in silence, hidden in the furthest corner of the great hall, keeping out of sight. They had only narrowly escaped a lifetime of imprisonment in Azkaban and were not ready to gain any more looks. As more and more people crowded into the hall they gained more and more glares of disapproval. Draco loosened his tie sheepishly; its tight grip almost choking him. Their eyes dug deep into his very core like a thousand hypodermic needles.

"I need some air," he exclaimed, rising from his seat, throwing his tie to the floor. This gained angered expressions from both his parents.

"Draco, sit down at once," Narcissa whispered harshly grasping her son's wrist. He struggled against his mother's firm hold before she finally released him.

"How can you just sit there?!" he said with acid tongue and raising his voice a little.

"Draco, please," Narcissa pleaded, trying to avoid making a scene. Draco's eyes blazed with anger like a raging fire. His mother was slightly taken aback by his fierce expression.

Lucius cleared his throat rather loudly causing both his wife and son to turn to him.

"Now, now Draco," he whispers in a suave tone "Can we all just calm down,"

Draco grins slyly, mocking his father's futile attempt to grasp the situation.

"Like I said before, I need some air," He then proceeded to head out of the Great Hall, avoiding as many people as he could.

Suddenly, a voice calls from behind him.

"Oi, Malfoy," the voice taunts "I am surprised you have the nerve to show your face around here,"

Draco turns, standing before him is a rather bedraggled redhead.

"What do you want Weasly, busy planning your brothers funeral," he spat spitefully desperate to be out of this situation.

"Why you little…" Ron rushed towards him, his fists clenched, before being interrupted.

"Ronald!" Hermione called "What do you think you're doing?" She runs towards him, standing between the two young men.

Ron scowls before finally replying. "Nothing…just making it clear that the scum like him have no place in this castle's walls," A moment of silence passes, the two men staring at each other like two rival males fighting for territory, neither wanting to show weakness.

"Please," Hermione pleaded "There has already enough damage caused by this war; we do not want to add to it,"

Draco turned to her and grasped her neck, whispering into her ear.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, you filthy little mudblood," And with that he let her go. Hermione took a few steps back, frightened.

"Come on Ronald, we should be going," She said hurriedly, her voice shaking.

Grasping her hand Ronald slowly led her away towards the Great Hall.

As they walked away from him, Draco suddenly felt as if all eyes were on him. His breath became heavier, his chest tightened, his eyes darted to and fro. He needed to be away. He did not care where as long as he was alone.

Like a skittish ferret he darts through the corridors yearning to breath free. He charges through the crowds: frightened, disillusioned, paranoid. Never before had the castle seemed so big, so confusing.

But, the strain of everything was becoming too much to bear. A mixture of guilt and exhaustion engulfs him, grinding him to a halt. He leans against the wall, gradually sliding down its cobbled surface, frustrated tears filling his eyes. He began to sob quietly, rubbing his chest lightly, trying to breath.

Suddenly he heard a voice call to him.

"Excuse me…who's there?"

Draco gasped, not making a sound. He could hear footsteps, approaching footsteps. Maybe if he stayed silent whoever that was would just go away.

What seemed like hours went by and he dared not even breathe. Finally, Draco decided he needed to leave; he could not risk any more confrontations. Like a fox he slinked around the corner. Unfortunately, in his current state he was not the most observant and barged into a fellow student travelling in the opposite direction.

"Watch where you're going!" He hissed, shoving his way past.

"I should say the same to you," the student exclaimed. Draco met the student's gaze. It was Astoria Greengrass; a fifth year slytherin student and sister of his classmate Daphne. Her long brown hair was tucked neatly into her robe.

They stood for a few moments staring at each other. Astoria noticed his rather drained appearance. The silence continued for a moment before Draco turned around and took a seat back beside the wall. He gestured for her to join him. Reluctantly, she complied. An uneasy atmosphere filled the air. Astoria couldn't believe what she was doing. Malfoy was a death eater, a death eater that dared to try and murder the great Albus Dumbledore. Could he be trusted? It is sufficed to say that she was worried.

Suddenly, Draco let out a sharp gasp and clutched his wrist.

"What is it?" She whispers softly, placing a hand on his arm.

"It burns, it rages through me like a fire, a constant fire that can never be extinguished," He slowly rolls up his sleeve, revealing his forearm, branded with the dark mark. It writhed on his skin: moving, twitching, slithering.

"I can't escape what I was, what I am, what I will be," Draco stroked his sleek, blonde hair and replaced his sleeve.

He stared into her piercing brown eyes, never before realised how beautiful they were.

She placed her hand onto his and tried to manage a small smile.

"This war has caused damage to all, good and bad, we all have to live with this," Draco began to lightly rub his forehead and closed his eyes before speaking.

"You will never understand, no one will ever understand," he muttered bitterly, sighing to himself. There was a short pause. Astoria felt for him. She knew he was deep down a civilised person. He had just been twisted and manipulated so much that all that's left is a bitter, spiteful, narcissist.

"I know, but at least you are trying to stay on the right side of the fence, hm?" she explained. Draco looked at her slightly bemused.

"I know it was not you that killed the headmaster and that's all I need to know to see that there is, however small, a part of you that is good,"

He laughed at her naivety in a jovial manner. However, he still could not escape the darkness that surrounded him and that would stay with him for the rest of his life; no one stops being a death eater.

Astoria arose from her position and stood before Draco. She then pulled out an old piece of parchment with an address written on the back.

"Write to me over the summer," she murmured "With the way things are at the moment I doubt we will be able to see each other face to face,"

He took the piece of paper from her before she set off down the corridor. Holding it for a while he stared at the delicately formed writing of the words, caressing them with his fingertips.

Maybe writing to her isn't such a bad idea; after all she is the only person who, at the moment, can stand the sight of him.


End file.
